


Hold On Tight, This Ride is a Wild One

by punk_rock_yuppie



Series: Old Scars / Future Hearts [1]
Category: CSI: Miami
Genre: Canon Divergent AU, Frotting, Gen, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Ryan has a kid, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-24 12:33:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7508401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>You’ve come this far, you’re all cleaned up, you’ve made a mess again.</i>
</p>
<p>Ryan is back in Miami after five years; kid in tow, can he make amends and rebuild the life he left behind?</p>
<p>
  <i>“You want to help? You should’ve done it three years ago when I actually needed you.” It’s harsh, far harsher than Ryan really meant it to be. But it’s the truth, too. The brutal truth.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold On Tight, This Ride is a Wild One

**Author's Note:**

> holy moly i can't believe i finally finished this thing!!! admittedly, it took so long bc the csi miami fandom is kind of a dead fandom, so this wasn't exactly high on my list of priorities. that said, this is one of my fave fics i've ever written!! i put so much time and energy into this and it means a lot to me as a fic. it's been abt a year in the making, btwn writing and editing and letting life or other fandoms get in the way. 
> 
> this beast is my baby!!! it's canon up through season four-ish, specifically around ep 14 or so. There's not a specific point where canon ends, but it's around then. i have a prequel and a sequel written up for these that i'll probably finish if anyone actually reads this fic (the woes of a mostly dead fandom) but this works well as a standalone piece too.
> 
> a note-- ")" means a small time skip, say a couple hours or a day. "))" means a longer time skip, like several days/a week or longer. just for frame of reference
> 
> hope you enjoy!!!

The clicking of his cane seems so embarrassingly loud in the Miami-Dade police building. It doesn’t help that he aims, often, to use his cane as little as possible; thus each tap serves as a reminder of his predicament. When he’s alone in his house, or even with guests, Ryan is comfortable enough to maneuver without his cane; one eye blind and the other only half as good as it used to be has left him with just enough vision to navigate familiar places. He can even navigate the grocery mart near his house without much trouble.

But this—his old career—it’s been years since he was here and despite the cringe each _click, click, click_ causes, Ryan knows he would be even more embarrassed if he had to fumble around without it.

He can hear voices around him though none are familiar. He feels at ease being here; the whole building speaks to him just as it did five years prior. He wonders idly if people are staring: does his reputation precede him? Are people staring at him because he’s _Ryan Wolfe_? Or are people staring because he’s a random blind man meandering through their workspace? It nags at Ryan so much he lapses into distraction and isn’t brought out of the daze until he realizes he’s about to run into someone.

He stops short, and his shoes squeak on the floor drawing even more attention his way. Faintly, he can make out the silhouette turning to him. Ryan braces himself, as the only thing he can make out is the vague shape of the person; small details are far beyond his reach.

“Ryan?” Horatio’s voice is like music to his ears. “Ryan Wolfe, back in town.” The lieutenant drawls, and Ryan hopes he smiles. “Staying out of trouble, I hope?”

Ryan grins anyway, a content flush settling in his cheeks. “Of course, H.” He holds out his hand for a shake, and is only thrown slightly off balance when Horatio pulls him into a friendly hug instead. He finds himself laughing as they separate, and warmth fills his chest. _Home_ , his mind is saying. He’s been gone for far too long and is all too happy to be back, even if things can’t be the same.

“What can I do for you today, Mr. Wolfe?”

Ryan shrugs and leans his weight on his cane. “Nothing, just figured I’d stop by and say hi. I, uh, I moved back. I, uh, just wanted to see how things were going, check in with everyone.”

Horatio’s head tilts and Ryan realizes how much he missed the mannerisms. “Moved back… for good?” He asks, slowly.

Ryan nods.

“Well then, I think celebrations are in order.” A hand claps down on Ryan’s shoulder and Horatio pulls him in again. “Why don’t you come over for dinner? We can round everyone up.”

Ryan stiffens only briefly but nods along with the suggestion anyways. “I think that’d be great.” Something nags at him that it probably won’t be as great as Horatio thinks. Ryan can’t turn him down, though, even if he kinda-sorta- _really_ wants to.

“Ryan, walk with me. Cases are slow, why don’t we do some catching up?” Horatio leads Ryan back toward the elevator, which Ryan can tell if only because of the way the lighting shifts. Ryan hums in agreement and allows himself to be steered. His mind is whirring at the thought of dinner with his coworkers, and a slow build of anxiety sets into his chest, so he lets Horatio take control. It gives Ryan time to process.

))

Horatio makes all the plans for dinner, all Ryan has to do is show up. Which, come the night of the dinner, is easier said than done. He finds himself fiddling with his outfit in front of a mirror for hours, despite not being able to truly see if his shirt looks better tucked in or not, or if the cuff at the bottom of his jeans is too nineties-throwback or _just_ right. He fusses for hours before he forces himself to leave.

He hails a cab and continues to mess with his outfit for the majority of the ride. It isn’t until the cab driver snaps at him—clearly fed up but not unkind—and tells him he looks _fine_ , for fuck’s sake. Ryan tips a little extra when he’s dropped off at Horatio’s home, confidence boosted and feeling a little less terrified of facing everyone. His cane clicks on the sidewalk all the way up to the porch. The stairs don’t give him trouble like they used to, and he has a moment of pride flashing through him.

He knocks three times; as he waits he listens to the faint sound of music and chatter from inside. Ryan wonders, as footsteps approach, just how many people are lurking around inside. He momentarily regrets letting Horatio have full reign over this—it’s fast starting to feel like a recipe for disaster.

Ryan gives a start when the door finally opens to reveal Marisol, looking flush and healthy, happy. Small details may escape him but personalities and feelings are more vibrant to him than ever. “Ryan!” She gathers him into a hug while pulling him inside the house. Her enthusiasm is infectious and he winds up laughing and returning the gesture. He wishes he could make out the finer details of her face, but he settles for what he can see.

“Would you like to leave your cane here?” She motions to what Ryan assumes is the coatrack. “We can help you around the house if you need it.” Her silhouette shrugs. “Whatever you’re more comfortable with.”

Ryan looks down at his cane though it’s mostly for show; he already knows he would rather not use the cane. So he shrugs as well and hands it to Marisol, watching her lean it beside the rack. He takes her extended hand and lets himself be led down the hallway. He knows Marisol fairly well, given that she’s Delko’s sister and Horatio’s wife. After her close call in the hospital, they grew closer in some odd turn of events. When he was shot and had his own stint in the hospital Marisol related to him better than anyone else could.

“Ryan is here!” She exclaims, pulling Ryan from his thoughts and garnering excited cheers from the others in the room. She pulls Ryan along a little further until he’s settled in the center of the room. He can hear furniture creaking as people stand, the scuffle of their shoes on the hardwood floor. He grins but keeps his eyes focused downwards. The attention, though not suffocating, is quickly overwhelming.

“Okay, okay, everyone. Please take a step back.” Horatio’s voice enters the room and cuts across the chatter from the others. “One at a time, don’t crowd him. If you’d all be so kind to remember, Ryan is blind and I don’t think smothering him will turn out well for anyone.” Ryan lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He turns toward H’s voice and grins. “Marisol, Natalia, why don’t you help me in the kitchen? Calleigh, make sure none of these animals maul Ryan.”

Titters of laughter flow through the room and everyone obediently backs off. Relieved, Ryan can’t really blame them for their excitement. Five years is a long time to be gone, and he knows he’s failed in keeping in touch with people. One by one, they approach him and shake his hand, hug him, chat for a moment before stepping aside. It feels strict and formal but also necessary. Just as he had to adapt to life blind, then life alone, Ryan needs to adapt to this. And structure is the best way to do that.

A soft hand takes his and lips are pressed to his cheek.

“Calleigh, it’s been too long.”

Her southern drawl is warm and soft to his ears: “I’ve missed you Ryan.” The crowd around them has dissipated further, and Ryan doesn’t feel rushed for the first time this evening. “You’ve been keeping out of trouble?”

Ryan laughs. “Why does everyone ask me that? You all just assume I’m some wild-child now?” Calleigh laughs and Ryan can feel her shrug. “I’ve been keeping things simple. Low profile, you know.” Ryan pauses and shifts from foot to foot. “Can we sit? I don’t—standing isn’t my, erm, favorite.”

Calleigh’s voice sputters out apologies and she guides him across the room. “Do you—?”

“I can take it from here. It’s a couch, kinda hard to miss.” He jokes. He collapses into cushion while his former coworker takes a soft seat beside him. “What about you? How’s… things?”

Calleigh laughs and Ryan’s heart pounds fondly. Despite their rocky start, she had always shown him kindness and they had a comfortable relationship. They had their bad days but most of their time working together was worthwhile. “ _Things_ are good,” she teases, “work has been fine, as gruesome as ever, but it still feels good to put the bad guys away.” She reclines into the couch and Ryan follows suit.

Ryan opens his mouth to speak but shuts it again, knowing full well how ridiculous it looks. The one other con of staying out of touch with people is not wanting to dredge up unwanted topics. He looks at Calleigh as seriously as he can, hoping to convey what he can’t bring himself to ask.

“Jake and I are still together,” she responds to his unasked inquiry. “He actually, uh, asked me to marry him.” She laughs as though it’s both the best and most ridiculous thing she’s ever heard. “I haven’t given him an answer yet, but he’s been pretty understanding.” Calleigh faces him and Ryan would bet money that she’s quirking an eyebrow at him. “What about you?” She taunts.

Ryan tenses but hides it with a sigh and sinking further into the couch. His fingers tap uneasily into the arm of the furniture. “Well, uh. After the whole incident,” he gestures to his eyes, “I moved around for a while trying to settle down. New York was nice, helped me clear my head. Spent some time in Seattle which was really nice, too.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “Met a girl..”

The blonde leans in, intrigued.

Ryan clears his throat loudly before continuing. “Met a girl, had a whole big thing with her, couple years back it crashed and burned.” He rubs his neck more insistently. This is sort of an enormous bomb to drop but it has to come out eventually. “Had a kid with her, and she ditched me as soon as she could.”

Even with his lacking vision, they’re close enough to Ryan can see Calleigh’s mouth drop open in surprise. “Ryan Wolfe!” She exclaims in a scandalized tone. “A _kid_?” Her voice quickly shifts to hushed. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack.” Ryan jokes nervously. “His name is Micah, and he’s gonna be two soon.” Hand falling from his neck, finally, he starts to twiddle his thumbs. “It kind of just… happened. I mean, me and his mom and sort of talked about our future, but then all of a sudden she was pregnant, talking about—” his voice cracks, “ _marriage_ ,” an undeniable shudder runs through him and Calleigh giggles. “And as soon as he was born, she was off like a bat outta hell.”

Calleigh shakes her head in disbelief. “Ryan I just can’t believe it. You disappear for five years and come back a _dad_.” She grips his shoulder and scoots closer. “I’m really happy for you, Ryan, I bet your kid is amazing.”

Ryan grins, not so much minding the way his cheeks flush. He raises his gaze from his hands to the room, watching the blurred bodies of his friends move about. “So, uh, who’s all here? Anyone you oughta drag over to harass me?”

Calleigh hiccups a laugh. “Well Alexx should be here soon and she’ll be fawning all over you without my help. Natalia is in the kitchen, as you already know. I think Maxine is around here somewhere, you _have_ to meet her husband. She left for a week’s vacation last year and came back with this guy in tow. We still haven’t decided if he’s good enough for her yet.”

Ryan relaxes again, the tension from the previous conversation subsiding. He falls into an easy conversation with Calleigh until Horatio calls out that dinner is ready. He stands but hesitates. The room is exceptionally crowded and he notices it now more than ever. Calleigh has already taken strides across the room, the faint glow of her blonde hair merging with the crowd of faded people. Ryan swallows and looks around, suddenly wishing he’d kept his cane hand.

A hand on his elbow startles him. “Sh, baby, it’s just me.” Alexx coos. “C’mon sweetie, let’s get you something to eat.” A sigh of relief escapes Ryan and he falls into step with Alexx. “How you been?” She asks as her hand rubs reassuringly on his arm. “I’ve missed you, y’know.”

“I know,” he answers. “I missed you too. I’ve been alright. You?” Alexx helps ease him back into the hustle and bustle of all the guests. The scents of food finally hit his nose and his mouth begins to water. However, he and Alexx stand back to allow the others to go first.

“I’ve been good, baby, real good. Took some time off from the team to work in a hospital, do a different kind of good work. Wasn’t in love with Eric ending up on my table so many times.” Her tone takes a turn for the bitter. Ryan cocks an eyebrow and nudges Alexx when he realizes she isn’t looking at him. “Hm?”

“Eric, on your table?” Ryan asks, incredulous.

Alexx startles and immediately speaks in a soothing tone. “Oh, honey, he’s fine. He had a couple incidents is all, you know, it comes with the job.” Alexx squeezes his shoulder. “He’s fine, Ryan, really. All better.” She teases, tone of her voice verging on sing-song. Ryan rolls his eyes and hates the way his cheeks heat up.

Alexx had always been the one he’d confided in more than anyone. Sure, Calleigh was a great listener and always kind; Horatio had a fatherly authority to him that Ryan often caved to—but Alexx was different. She was mothering but not overwhelming, she never pried but somehow always had people spilling their guts to her. The fact that Alexx had a special affinity for Ryan had only furthered matters.

She knew all about his kind of-sort of crush on Eric. She knew that Ryan had more than just polite feelings for the man. She also took far too much pleasure in taunting him whenever the chance arose. She had actually been pushing him to make a move when everything went drastically downhill.

Eric had blamed himself and nothing anyone did soothed that guilt. Ryan knew that Eric’s guilt only worsened when the situation with his eyesight came up. At first, as Ryan began to heal, he and Eric were even forming a tentative friendship. Eric, driven by regret as far as Ryan could tell, would drive Ryan almost every day, would practically dote on Ryan at work; their relationship, previously antagonistic and spread thin, was being repaired and even progressing. At the rate it had been going, Ryan almost seriously felt he had a chance with his coworker.

Then, his vision had begun to fade. And everything came crashing down again. Eric’s remorse flared up and he cut himself off from Ryan. Alexx had tried to persuade Ryan into sticking around: there were other jobs in Miami for him even if he was partially blind, she had even promised that if he stuck around, Eric would be back at his side.

But Ryan couldn’t bear the thought of _not_ finding a job, and even worse he couldn’t bear the thought of _completely_ losing Eric. So he moved, he lived his life in a way he never imagined he would, and now he was back to square one. Back in Miami—sans vision, kid in tow—and near Eric once more.

“Alexx,” he hisses as they move again towards the food, “is Eric here right now?” He hadn’t been approached but that was to be expected. He hadn’t heard Eric’s voice but who knew if he’d actually remember the sound after five years?

Alexx hums. “No, baby, he’s not. I don’t know if he will be. It’s not exactly a secret that you’re in town. Now, what do you want? They’ve got… well, damn near everything.” Alexx laughs and Ryan joins in.

“I’ll have what you’re having; you know I’m not picky.”

)

The clock—no really, the grandfather clock in the dining room—strikes eleven and Ryan’s ears perk up. People have flocked to and fro, striking up conversations with him here and there; things have mostly settled and he’s still saddled alongside Alexx. He looks around and it catches his friend’s attention. “Ryan?” Alexx prods with a gentle voice. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah, I just gotta get home. Micah’s babysitter is off at eleven thirty and I don’t want to keep her waiting.” Ryan hands his plate to Horatio at the older man’s insistence, and Alexx brings him to the hallway after everyone says their goodbyes.

“You need a ride home?” She asks as she passes along his cane. “I don’t mind leaving a little early.”

“Hey now, I may not be able to see how much you had to drink but I know you had _more_ than a couple of glasses of wine.” He winks. “It’s fine, I can call a cab.” Ryan waves off a protest from her and turns to the door. “It was really good to be with everyone again. We’ll have to do dinner sometime, just us.” He flashes her a final smile before opening the door.

His cane clicks on the threshold of the door but it doesn’t stop him from bumping into the person standing in his way. Ryan grunts, and Alexx gasps. The person he ran into, definitely male, gasps as well and even goes so far as to grab Ryan’s arm and steady him.

Ryan tilts his head in confusion, never more hating his lack of vision than now. It isn’t the first time he’s stumbled into someone and hasn’t been able to identify who or why. As best he can tell, they were both at the wrong place at the same time. “Uh, sorry.” He stares, unseeing aside from blurs, straight ahead.

“Ryan?” An all too familiar voice is soft over the sounds of the party and the ambient sound outside. Turns out Ryan _does_ recognize his voice, even after five years.

“Oh.” _Oh shit_ , is more accurate, but he finds himself unable to get the words out. “Hey,” he fakes nonchalance to no avail.

“I’ll just be in the other room.” Alexx pipes up, unprovoked and far from subtle. Her heels click down the hall and away from them, while Ryan wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

“You leaving?” Eric asks and if Ryan didn’t know better he’d say the other man sounded let down. “I didn’t mean to get here so late, I caught a break in my case at the last minute and wanted to see it through.”

Ryan nods understandingly. “It’s okay, everyone is still partying hard. I just gotta get home and—” He falters, though he can’t place why. He’s told everyone else about Micah, why is it so hard to tell Eric? Before he can explain further, though, Eric is filling the empty air.

“Need a ride?”

Ryan tenses as every fiber of his being screams about what a bad, _terrible_ idea it would be to accept. But a devilish side of him rises, and he can’t help himself. It’s a ride with _Eric_ , who Ryan _has_ missed these past years. Plus, it’d be free rather than another twenty dollars for a cab. So Ryan nods and listens as Eric steps back onto the porch to make room for him.

As Ryan moves towards the steps he hears the front door click shut behind them. Eric stands close. “Do you need help down the stairs?”

Ryan actually lets out a small laugh. “No, I’m fine.” He shakes his head but moves slowly. Despite feeling comfortable with stairs he’s always extra cautious. It’s too easy to misstep even when you’re not blind. He firmly plants his cane on each step before moving down, until the click on wood turns to scrapes on concrete sidewalk. “I’ve gotten pretty used to this whole thing.” He grins. “You’ll have to kind of lead me to your car.”

“Right, of course.” Eric hesitates beside him. “How should I, uh—?”

Ryan laughs again, louder this time, and he realizes maybe he had a bit more to drink than he realized. “Hold out your arm.” Eric obeys instantly and Ryan grasps Eric’s arm just below the elbow, then gestures forward. “Lead the way.”

)

They arrive at Ryan’s apartment in record time, far faster than a cab. He steps out of the car and hears Eric do the same. “I can take it from here, Eric. I know my way around pretty well.” His cane clicks and true to his word he easily steps onto the sidewalk in front of his apartment and makes a beeline for the stairs.

“Ryan, I want to help.”

He bristles before he can help it. “I don’t need your help, Delko. Not anymore.” He doesn’t turn. He’s found, from experience, whipping around to glare angrily at people only throws him off balance; he’s found that his glare holds less impact now that his eyes are faded over. “I’ve gotten used to this. It’s been five years and I’ve spent them mostly on my own, learning to live like this by _myself_. I’ve moved across the country and back on my _own_.”

Ryan turns now, though, because it feels like the right thing to do. To face Eric head on while he spills his guts feels less cowardly than looking away. “I’ve been raising a kid on my own, I’ve been finding my own jobs, paying my own bills, I can do _anything_ you can do just fucking _fine_.” Ryan closes his eye and breathes deep. “You want to help? You should’ve done it five years ago when I actually _needed_ you.” It’s harsh, far harsher than Ryan really meant it to be. But it’s the truth, too. The brutal truth.

Eric doesn’t say anything, and Ryan hears a door open behind them.

“Mr. Wolfe? Is that you?” Ryan turns to the sound, recognizing the voice of the babysitter. He doesn’t look back at Eric—what good would it do, anyway?—and makes towards the stares.

“Yeah, sorry Erin, just got caught up in some stuff.” He takes the stairs quicker despite his usual carefulness; the faster he gets away from Eric, the better. “How was Micah? Did he give you too much trouble?” He asks, hushed, as he and Erin slip back into his apartment. Ryan sets his focus on paying the girl and checking on his son, not on Eric who simply stood and stared as Ryan left.

)

In the middle of the night, after waking up to sooth Micah’s crying, Ryan reflects on the evening. Micah is asleep in his arms where they’re sitting on the couch, and Ryan can feel the boy’s drool soaking into his t-shirt. Ryan closes his eyes and lets his mind drift. It _had_ been nice seeing everyone, but at the same time had left a bad taste in his mouth.

Ryan feels guilty, but also knows his actions are completely justified. He doesn’t owe Eric anything. Eric had abandoned him five years ago, that wasn’t Ryan’s fault. No one else had abandoned him; maybe they kept their distance but they came back time and time again. Eric nearly disappeared off the face of the earth. Ryan’s heart had been broken, as dramatic as it sounded: his feelings for Eric had only grown as their relationship solidified.

Even though he knows Eric’s motives at first were guilt and pity, Ryan also knows that they changed along the way. A genuine friendship developed and Ryan seriously thought it could be something more.

Eric was the one to ruin it all.

Micah snuffles in his sleep and Ryan smiles. He strokes the boy’s hair and settles in for the night. It’s not as though he has anywhere to be in the morning. He knows that if he tries to stand or lay Micah down to sleep, the kid will only wake up again and the process will begin again.

Ryan watches his son’s soft, sleeping face and sighs. He isn’t a fan of keeping hatred in his heart; he’s not one to keep a grudge no matter how he wishes he was. It’s caused him a lot of problems over the years, more strife than someone more cold might endure. In the end, though, he’s always felt better for his decisions. No serious grudges or animosity holding him back lets him be unstressed and happier in life.

Micah’s face wrinkles unhappily at something in a dream and Ryan grins. Micah is a prime example of Ryan’s lack of hate. Micah’s mother hadn’t exactly dropped him off at Ryan’s doorstep and disappeared into the night—

She had come to Ryan and asked Ryan to take him. She had been honest, clear that she wasn’t ready to be a mom even though she had thought she was at the beginning of the pregnancy. She told Ryan exactly what her plans were, where she would be, and that she would understand if he didn’t want her in Micah’s life. She had even offered to take Micah, if Ryan didn’t want the responsibility, and have her mom watch over him.

But Ryan, despite his initial anger, let her go and let Micah stay. He couldn’t be mad at her; the pregnancy wasn’t planned, Ryan couldn’t blame her for wanted to get out in the end. He was angry that a relationship he’d spent so long working on, truly developing, truly loving, was dissolving in a single night. But he couldn’t stay mad and Micah made it all worthwhile overall.

Micah mumbles something incoherent and weakens Ryan’s resolve even more. He can’t stay mad at Eric no more than he could stay mad at Micah’s mom or anyone else who had wronged him in life.

))

Micah is pressed to Ryan’s chest, dozing lightly and shaking his toy every so often. Ryan is thankful for how easily distracted his son is, and that the terrible twos aren’t proving to be so terrible after all. It’s a little hard to keep Micah in one arm, along with a car seat, and use his cane in the same hand holding a baby bag, but he manages to find Horatio’s office just as he had a few days prior. He knocks with his cane and waits for Horatio’s predicted, “Come in,” before entering.

Horatio looks up from his paper work. “Well, who is this?” He asks and Ryan can hear the grin on his lips. His former boss has always loved kids, and Ryan is sure Micah will love Horatio right back.

“This is Micah.” Ryan answers as he hands off his son to Horatio. “Micah can you tell H hi?” He takes the moment to set his gear down. His arms tingle from the strain.

Micah peers at Horatio curiously, one chubby finger coming up to grab at the sunglasses hanging from the man’s collar. Horatio huffs a quiet laugh. Micah mumbles into the man’s chest something that sounds like a ‘hello’ and both men laugh. Horatio smiles at Micah with adoration similar to the way he looks at his own family and it sends a spark of warmth through Ryan.

“What brings you in today, Mr. Wolfe?”

Ryan steps forward and rests his hand on Micah’s head, rubbing gently. “I wanted to say hi again, maybe just pester you guys for a bit if that’s not too much trouble. Kinda feels like Micah has cabin fever, cooped up all day, so I figured a day out and about would do us both some good.” Horatio passes Micah back to Ryan, and Micah lets out a soft cry at the loss of fiddling with H’s sunglasses.

“That’s fine with me, Mr. Wolfe. Miss Boa Vista and Calleigh are in the field right now, but Eric, I believe, is in the locker room if you’d like to shadow him.” Horatio smiles, something Ryan can tell by the curve of his face; if Ryan’s vision were better, he’d know that the smile was full of smugness and was far too pleased.

Ryan’s heart skips a beat—it’s as though Horatio _always_ knows something, knows _everything_ —but reminds himself that Eric is the main reason he came in. His intent is to make amends, maybe rekindle their friendship. If nothing else, Ryan knew Eric would never hurt him, never hit a blind man and certainly not one holding a toddler. “That sounds good. If you need me out of your hair, just give me a call.”

Horatio grins again and waves them off. “Have a good day, Mr. Wolfe.”

)

Ryan pushes open the door to the locker room slowly. He can hear the telltale shuffle of items in a locker. He calls out—

“Eric?”

Something falls to the ground and Ryan has his answer. Adjusting Micah in his grip he follows the sounds and his muscle memory to Eric’s locker. “Tell me if I’m going the right direction.” He teases with a wobbling voice. His nerves are hitting him like a sucker punch.  His legs are shaking as he walks and his heart is pounding in his ears.

“I thought you didn’t need my help.” Eric’s voice is right beside him and Ryan jumps, immediately upsetting Micah who lets out an unhappy cry.

Ryan shushes his son, cooing soft, comforting words and stroking his son’s face. It’s a minor, if startling, outburst. Micah quiets easily and shifts in Ryan’s arms to look at Eric. Ryan can feel Eric’s eyes burning holes into his skin. “Hi.” Ryan greets.

Eric is still staring, and it’s far too similar to the prior night for Ryan’s liking.

“So, Eric, meet Micah. Micah, can you say hi?”

Micah stares back with intensity. In the same quite voice he used to greet Horatio, the little brunette says “hi,” his voice is thick and distracted, as it often is. Ryan can’t help the smile splitting across his face, so enamored with his son each day. He looks up and wishes more than anything that he could make out the finer details on Eric’s face.

“Hey little guy,” Eric replies. He reaches out with a tentative hand and Micah grabs at a finger. Eric lets Micah’s tiny hands curl around his finger with a small laugh. “So…?”

“He’s my kid.” Ryan starts off, bold though his legs still quake. “Met his mom not too long after I moved around, she left and I kept Micah.” His son loses interest in Eric’s finger in favor of reaching out and making grabby hands. “I think he wants you to hold him. You up for that?” Ryan asks, genuine. Not everyone wants to hold a baby; hell, before Micah, _Ryan_ never wanted to hold a kid.

Eric nods. He takes Micah from Ryan’s arms and cradles the kid. Ryan stretches his now free arm and appreciates the break. “You have a _kid_.”

Ryan matches Eric’s disbelieving laugh. “I know, it’s crazy. It’s—it’s good too, though.” Ryan drops his gaze to their feet. “Listen, Eric—”

“About last night,” Eric cuts him off, “you were totally right.” Eric looks up from Micah. “I was out of line. I should have been there for you back then. I fu— _screwed_ up. Big time. And I’ve regretted it ever since.” Eric turns his head away and Ryan, if he squints, can make out the faintest blush on the man’s cheeks. “I just felt so guilty. I ruined your _life_. If it had just been the injury, I could’ve gotten over it.” Eric’s face is full of guilt and flushed pink. “At least the injury could’ve healed, I don’t know, if it was just the injury it wouldn’t have been so hard. I mean, it didn’t _kill_ you—but you’re _blind_ , I ruined your career, I couldn’t face you.”

Ryan watches as Micah settles in Eric’s arms and drifts to sleep. Eric follows his stare, because it’s easier than either of them trying to make eye contact with the other.

Eric continues softly. “I felt so stupid after you moved. Alexx came right out and told me how stupid I was. Everyone did after a while. And I know everyone kinda kept in touch with you, but, I was just too ashamed by the time I realized how ridiculous I’d been.”

Eric sighs, and Ryan lets out a long, relieved breath.

“I’m sorry, Ryan.” Eric’s voice is softer than ever, and trembling.

“I’m sorry too, Eric.” Ryan responds. “And you’re forgiven.”

Eric looks up so fast it startles Ryan into taking a step back. “I—Ryan, no, you don’t have to do that—I’m serious—” Ryan can’t see it, but Eric’s face contorts in frustration. He’s trying to _apologize_ , but he’s not demanding forgiveness. He doesn’t expect it, in the slightest.

“I’m serious too.” Ryan retorts. “I… I’ve learned a lot over the years, and one of them is that it does no one any good to hold grudges.” Ryan gathers up his courage in the form of a deep inhale and steps closer to Eric, to Micah. “So, you’re forgiven. It’s not like I can’t understand why you did it. If I’d been in that situation, I probably would’ve been so mortified and guilty I would’ve fled the country. I know what happened wasn’t easy on anyone, especially you. I mean, I had it the worst but, it wasn’t a competition.” He cracks a smile and looks for the telltale rise in the apple of Eric’s cheeks.

Ryan is rewarded with just that: Eric smiles and his blush burns a little brighter.

They lapse into silence aside from Micah’s soft snoring for a while. Eric is the one to finally break the silence. “So, not that I mind, but what are you doing here?”

Ryan shrugs. “We both needed to get out of the house, this is the easiest place for me to be,” he ticks the reasons off on his fingers, “I wanted to talk to you about last night.” Ryan pauses for effect. “And H sent me to you to keep me entertained for the day.”

Eric rolls his eyes. “Of course he did, leave it to you to need a babysitter.”

“You seemed all too eager to _babysit_ me last night.”

Eric opens his mouth to reply but nothing comes out, which sends Ryan into a fit of laughter. The sounds, quickly coupled with Eric’s own laugh, echo through the locker room and vibrate against the lockers. The rebounding sounds wake Micah, and he whines quietly to catch Ryan’s attention.

“He’s probably hungry, he hasn’t eaten since we left the house.” Ryan opens his arms again, but Eric makes no move to hand him over. “Uh, Eric?”

“Where’s your baby bag?” He asks dutifully.

“I—?” Ryan has to stop and think for a moment. “Crap, I think I left it in H’s office. We got to talking a little bit, I probably set it down when he took Micah.” Ryan rubs a hand across his face, exasperated with himself. “Do you mind coming with me to get it?”

“Not at all. What are babysitters for?”

Ryan, for lack of a better option, sticks his tongue out at Eric petulantly.

)

Later, after Micah has been fed and is wriggling and energized, Eric suggests they go out to eat for themselves. Ryan’s look must be a wild one given the laugh that erupts from the other man, and Ryan feels a blush stain his skin in response.

“C’mon, my treat. It’s the least I can do. I mean, like, seriously, it’s the _least_ I can do.”

Ryan senses the afterthought of _I want and can do more if you’ll let me_ that goes unspoken. It sends a shiver down his spine. He nods, though, and finishes gathering Micah’s various toys they’ve managed to litter around Horatio’s office. Eric scoops Micah off the floor and the kid squeals in delight. Ryan’s heart pounds.

“I never knew you were so good with kids.” Ryan remarks offhandedly. He stands and slings the bag over his shoulder. Eric takes the car seat from Ryan’s hands almost immediately. He has no trouble carrying Micah in one arm and the seat in the other, and though Ryan is a little embarrassed he’s grateful more than anything.

Eric leads the way out and Ryan sticks close to his side. As Eric’s warmth seeps into his own body, Ryan swears to himself it’s only to be close to Micah. “My sisters have kids, I’ve been helping them. I gotta get good at it for when H and Marisol finally have a little hellspawn.”

Ryan raises an eyebrow as they step into the elevator. “They’re trying to have a kid?”

“Yeah. They’ve been trying for a while but with the cancer, it’s hard. And after the stuff with Riaz, that made it even worse. They’re finally in a good spot though, I guess. They’re really excited for it, so I am too.” Eric smiles fondly.

Ryan finds himself staring at Eric, the outline of his broad shoulders and the definition of his profile. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re already great with kids. It’ll be no issue.”

“Yeah well none of the kids I’ve dealt with have been Horatio’s, and something tells me that’s gonna mix things up a bit.”

Both men laugh as they step off the elevator. Eric leads the way to the parking lot, not saying a word when Ryan grabs onto his sleeve for guidance. When Eric stops moving Ryan stops as well. Eric turns to Ryan.

“Here, take Micah, I’ll take the bag.” They trade off, and Ryan waits as he listens to Eric load up his car. The bag goes in the back seat, and Ryan can hear his former coworker set up the car seat with a practiced ease. Ryan kisses the top of Micah’s head absent mindedly as he waits and smiles at the resulting bubbly laugh.

Eric returns to where Ryan stands waiting and takes Micah back. Once Micah is strapped in and secure, Eric pulls Ryan along to the passenger side door. From there Ryan takes over, settlings himself inside easily. Eric slips into the driver’s seat and looks over at Ryan. “So, where to?”

“You’re buying, you pick.”

Eric shakes his head as he starts the car. “Nope. I’m treating you, which mean it’s your pick.” Eric insists. He pulls out of the parking lot and though his eyes are focused on the road his whole body is telling Ryan to make a decision.

“How about Atrio?” Ryan suggests quietly. He’s never been good at accepting handouts or gifts. He’s never felt deserving. Though he enjoys Eric’s apology and subsequent pursuance of redemption, Ryan still doesn’t feel right accepting lunch. But at the same time he kind of does—it’s confusing, to say the least.

Eric nods. “Sounds good.”

)

They get seated easily given that it’s the middle of a weekday. They’re brought a booster seat and Micah gnaws distractedly on his toy. Eric and Ryan sit across from each other, intently staring at their menus as the tension grows thicker between them. Ryan can’t place why, as soon as Eric helped him out of the car, they both tensed up. It could’ve been the way the waitressed grinned at them like she knew something they didn’t—but Ryan couldn’t see the little flash of her teeth and the sweetly mischievous curve of her smile. Only Eric had noticed that. But Ryan had caught a lady a table over mention something about _‘their son’_. Of course, she had no way of knowing Micah was only Ryan’s, but Eric didn’t seem to catch her words and Ryan let it slide.

But the air between them was getting thicker with each passing moment.

This time, Ryan is the one to break the silence. “So, what are you gonna get?”

“I’ll probably get the Cuban,” Eric murmurs, “with sweet potato fries.”

Ryan nods. He runs his fingers along the braille and sighs with indecision. Eric looks up from the menu and furrows his brow. “Ryan, you can get whatever you want.”

Ryan pinks in the face again and tries to hide it with the menu as best he can. “I—okay.” He doesn’t argue, but that still doesn’t mean he’s going to order anything more than eighteen dollars. It just doesn’t feel right. While he’s still deciding, the waitress returns, and Ryan nods for Eric to order. By the time he’s finished, Ryan actually is ready.

“I’ll have the eight ounce Angus burger, with regular fries, and just water to drink.” His face is still pink and he feels absolutely ridiculous for having suggested this place. It seems the prices had risen in his time away and he was feeling exceptional remorse.

It must show in his expression because as soon as the waitress flutters off again, Eric leans forward. “You okay?”

Ryan swallows nervously. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You don’t have to buy me back or something.”

Eric smirks. “That’s not what I’m doing.” He pauses. “Well, not entirely. Only a little.” It works a tentative laugh out of Ryan. “I want to help you out, I want to be there for you like I should’ve been before.” Eric says just as intent as he was in the locker room earlier. “This is my treat; you can grab lunch next time. Deal?”

Ryan nods vigorously. “Deal.”

“So what brings you back to Miami?” Eric leans down to retrieve Micah’s toy from the floor and returns it to the young boy’s hands.

“I missed it. It’s my home, you know? It just felt right. Micah’s mom left right after he was born, and I tried to stay in Seattle but it just… wasn’t what I wanted. I couldn’t move right away, I didn’t have enough money and I didn’t want to just up and leave my job. It took a little time, saving some money, and here we are.

“I wanted him to see sunny beaches; I wanted him to get the experience I missed out on. When I first moved here, I wished I’d grown up here. I wanted to give him that.” Ryan smiles at his son.

A silence, no longer tense though still heavy, passes again. The waitress drops off their drinks and hurries away again. Other patrons around them are seated or leave around them. It seems like an eternity has passed—in a good way—before their food arrives. Ryan can’t see it, but it smells delightful. He’s so focused on not making a fool of himself that he almost misses Eric’s words.

Eric speaks softly again, and it seems even quieter under the dull roar of the other guests.

“I’m glad you’re back.”

))

True to his word, Eric helps Ryan as often as he can, whether the brunette likes it or not. Eric holds doors for him, guides him without prompting, even insists on taking Micah out to the park so Ryan can catch some sleep. They spend more time together than they had even after the initial incident.

Ryan finds himself enjoying it more than he probably should. Though, it isn’t as though Eric isn’t having his own fun as well. There’s none of the reluctance from before; the guilt is still there but it’s less as though Eric is forcing himself to be there for Ryan and more like he genuinely wants to be.

Weeks pass and though Ryan wants to be skeptical, he can’t help the way his hopes are rising again.

))

A knock at his door startles Ryan from his nap on the couch; though he’s exhausted he’s thankful for the wakeup call because Micah is squirming in his arms and ready to wander. He sets his son in his play pen and ignores the disgruntled look he gets in return. Ryan moves to answer the door. He leans against the door. “Who is it?” His lack of vision leaves him no choice. It’s not the first time he’s missed the peephole.

“It’s Eric. I got coffee, and donuts.”

Ryan opens the door faster than he really means to, but food and caffeine sound godly. He grins and holds out a hand eagerly. “Oh my god you’re amazing.” Eric passes along the coffee before stepping inside Ryan’s apartment. “Oh my god,” Ryan says again before taking a hurried sip. It burns his tongue a bit but he can’t bring himself to care.

“You okay?” Eric asks with alarm. Ryan listens to the other coffee and donuts being set down, and then Eric’s hands are on him.

“I’m fine, Eric, sheesh. Micah kept me up all night is all.” Ryan turns his head ruefully towards his son’s playpen. “He fell asleep too early last night and I couldn’t bring myself to keep him up. Instead, I got to sit with him at four in the morning when he wanted to play and scream and—?” He shakes his head and takes a long, grateful sip of coffee. “It isn’t the first time, won’t be the last.”

Eric quirks a smile and gestures to the donuts. “Hungry?” At Ryan’s nod, Eric grabs one and passes it along.

“So,” Ryan draws out the word, he turns away from Eric and pretends to busy himself with his food. “What brings you by this morning?”

“I figured that was obvious.”

Ryan rolls his eyes, throwing the napkin from his donut at Eric. “I mean why did you bring me coffee and donuts?” He asks sharply.

“I was in the neighborhood, wanted to check up on you.”

“You couldn’t call?” Ryan teases.

“I didn’t want to call. I wanted to—s-see you.” Eric falters and does his own impression of not blushing, faking casual friendliness.

Ryan finishes his coffee and leaves the cup on his table. He’s torn between moving towards Eric— _where is this going? Why has everything been so tense, so heavy, so electric between the two of them?—_ and retrieving Micah from the pen. Not only is his son getting antsy again, but holding Micah is akin to holding a security blanket. “Do you work today?”

Eric’s face falls. “Yeah, I’m on my way there now. Just…”

“Wanted to see me, yeah, I got that.” Ryan smiles. Eric’s footfalls move closer to him, cornering him against the back of the couch. “Eric?”

“I should get going.” He admits, though his movements betray his words. If anything he steps closer to Ryan, until they’re toe to toe. Ryan leans away, pressing into the back edge of the couch. “You, uh, wanna get together later?”

“I—I was—uhm, how about tomorrow? I can get Micah’s babysitter to take care of him, we could go out.” Ryan is babbling now, but Eric doesn’t seem deterred. “Besides, knowing our luck your case will probably take forever and even if we did make plans tonight we’d have to reschedule.”

They share a laugh, both knowing how true the words are. “Okay, tomorrow.” Eric agrees. “I _should_ have tomorrow off, if we’re lucky.”

Ryan knows he’s blushing, and he sincerely hopes Eric is too. There’s an unspoken current traveling between them, and though he desperately wants to put everything out there he refrains. He’s terrified of shattering this moment, the wounds of years past still lingering at the back of his mind. “Okay. Uh, Erin—the babysitter—has class and work until six, I think.

“I’ll call her later today and let you know, okay?” Ryan flashes Eric a privately smile.

“Sounds good. I’ll have my cell on me, give me a call, okay?”

Ryan nods. “You really should get going. Calleigh will kick your ass if you’re late.”

Eric holds up his hands in surrender and backs away. “Alright, alright.” He turns to the door and takes even, confident strides that speak volumes for his mood. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Ryan nods. “Bye.”

When the door click shuts Ryan slumps to the floor. He feels dizzy, elated, mind a blur with thoughts. He laughs and feels his whole face burn red. It takes Micah’s unhappy, hungry noises to bring him out of his glee.

“You hungry kiddo? Alright, alright, c’mon.” Ryan scoops his kid up, mentally getting himself into ‘dad-mode’ as Eric calls it. He can’t get rid of the cheek-splitting grin on his face, though, and doubts he will for a while.

)

“Hello?” Eric’s voice is a little tinny over the phone.

“Hey, Eric, it’s Ryan.”

“Hey! Did you get—are we on for tomorrow night?” He asks in a rush. It earns him an odd look from Natalia, but Eric doesn’t care.

Ryan’s nod is given away by the rustling over the phone. “Yeah, Erin can come over and watch him. She doesn’t have school the next day so—uh,” Ryan falters. Is this too forward? Is he reading Eric right or is he completely misinterpreting the entire situation? “If… If we stay out too late or get too drunk, it’s fine. She doesn’t have to work till late afternoon, so I just have to get back home before then.” He tries to maneuver around the elephant between them—the whole _‘you know if we end up sleeping together we don’t have to rush it or anything’_ thing—and if he fails Eric doesn’t comment on it.

“That’s great. Did you want to go out? We could just have some beers at my place? Watch some movies or something?”

Again, Ryan nods before speaking. “Sure, sounds great. Do you want to, ah, pick me up? Or should I catch a cab?”

“I can pick you up after the girl gets there, that’s fine. No sense in you wasting money on a cab.”

Ryan sighs in relief. He’s already sunk more on cabs than he ever had before—he misses the benefit of living with other people, and living in places where nothing was ever very far. “That’d be great.”

There’s some rustling and muffled voices on the other end of the line before Eric speaks again. When he does, he sounds rushed but no less eager. “Okay, I gotta go, talk to you later?”

Ryan hums in agreement.

))

Ryan is fussing over Micah, at the protests of Erin, when Eric knocks at the door. Ryan doesn’t seem to hear it, so Erin strides to the door to answer it. She steps back to let Eric inside, and jerks her thumb at Ryan. “He’s been like this for the past thirty minutes. Maybe longer, I only got here thirty minutes ago.” Her arms are crossed and the exasperated expression is also fond. “I think he’s having a fit over not being with Micah tonight.”

Eric approaches Ryan cautiously. He claps a hand onto Ryan’s shoulder and forces the man to face him. “You sure you wanna do this?” Eric asks slowly, already thinking of a different day to reschedule to, the offer to stay in tonight and stay and Ryan’s lingering on the tip of his tongue.

Ryan looks up from his son, mouth open in contained anxiety. “I do.” He looks at Micah again. His son seems perplexed by what’s going on, but not upset. “But. I’ve never been—I’ve only ever left him with a sitter for a couple hours at a time.” Ryan moves, antsy, from foot to foot.

“You know he’ll be fine.” Eric reasons.

“I know.”

“You can call as much as you want to check up on him.” Eric adds, not mentioning the look in Ryan’s eyes that speaks volumes for his nerves.

“I know.”

“I can even get you back earlier tonight if that’s what you want.”

“I—?” Ryan—somehow, impossibly—seems frustrated by Eric’s suggestions. Before he can explain, Eric cuts in again.

“You don’t have to decide right now. Let’s get outta here, relax a little, and if, y’know, eleven o’clock or midnight rolls around and you don’t wanna be away from him, then I’ll bring you back.” Eric offers with his hands held out, almost pleading. Erin moves closer to them and opens her arms as well, ready to take Micah from Ryan. “C’mon, Ryan, you need a night off.”

It takes another few moments of silence but Ryan does pass Micah to Erin; the boy squeals in delight and Erin coos in return. It sets Ryan immediately at ease. His whole body relaxes and a smile splits across his lips. “I’ll just, uh, grab my jacket and we can go.”

“Which one?” Eric asks as he takes a few steps toward the coat rack by the door.

“Uhm, any of them, I guess? The zip hoodie will do.”

Eric nods and grabs the jacket, passing it along to Ryan. “You ready then? Got your phone, wallet, whatever?”

“Yeah.” More confidence has returned to his voice, and he seems less afraid. He leans over and kisses Micah’s head, then follows Eric to the door. He grabs his cane on the way. “I’ll probably call every hour or so.” He warns and is answered by Erin’s laugh.

“Go on, get out of here you big baby.”

)

Eric lets Ryan step into the home first. Ryan’s cane taps softly on the floor as he slowly moves into the living room. “You need anything? Want a drink?” Eric calls out.

Ryan nods as he makes his way to the couch. It’s relatively easy, as the couch is large and plush and is hard to miss even with Ryan’s vision. He settles himself in on one side so that he can lean on the arm of the couch. “Can I just have a soda to start?” Ryan asks.

“Course.” After retrieving the drinks, Eric sets the soda for Ryan on the coaster by the couch, and pops open his own beer. “So, movie?”

Ryan shrugs. “I’m good with anything.”

While Ryan can’t make out the finite details of the motion, he knows Eric is rolling his eyes. Ryan can tell by the way Eric’s head tips back just enough to be noticeable. “Okay,” Eric decides, “then you can’t complain.”

A spark of amused fear runs through Ryan but he waits patiently, eager to see what Eric is going to subject him to for the evening. There are soft sounds that Ryan listens to with intent. With such limited vision, he relies so heavily on sounds to paint a picture for him. He remembers the way Eric looks in fairly vivid detail, though he’s sure that the man has changed some over the years. He listens to Eric’s sock-covered feet cross the floor and he hears the faint static of a television turning on.

Ryan recognizes the scrape of a case being pulled from a shelf, and he listens as the DVD player hums to life. There’s a click when Eric puts the disc in, and the TV’s noise grows as the ads and previews begins. The couch sinks with Eric’s return, and Ryan smiles into his soda. They’re both silent as the movie starts, Ryan in particular.

_My name is Max. My world is fire and blood._ There are sounds of revving engines and the vague noises of sand blowing around.

_Once, I was a cop. A road warrior searching for a righteous cause._

The noises of cars grow louder with the surround sound and Ryan feels his face breaking into a smile.

_As the world fell, each of us in our own way was broken. It was hard to know who was more crazy… Me… or everyone else._

“Really, Eric?”

“What, no love for Tom Hardy?”

Ryan throws his head back in a laugh. “Plenty of love. Just… never really expected that from you.”

Eric matches his laugh, and the back of Ryan’s neck burns with a blush.

The sounds change from road noise to voices, a myriad of them. _Here they come again, worming their way into the black matter of my brain. I tell myself they cannot touch me. They are long dead._

“So I just realized something.” Eric’s voice reeks of embarrassment and shame.

_I am the one who runs from both the living **and** the dead. _

“Oh yeah?” Ryan shifts so that his back is pressed into the arm of the couch and his feet press into the middle cushion.

_Hunted by scavengers…_

“This movie is really...”

Ryan picks up where Eric leaves off. “Visual?”

_Haunted by those I could not protect. So I exist in this wasteland…_

“I’m sorry, we can change it—?”

_A man, reduced to a single instinct…_

“It’s fine, Eric. Most movies are visual, kinda the point.” He nudges Eric’s leg with his foot to tease. “I can kind of make out some details, and that’s good enough for me. My condition has given me a profound appreciation for soundtracks.”

_Survive._

)

The movie intrigues Ryan, despite the fact most of its impact is probably lost on him. Nonetheless it’s one he finds himself wanting to listen to in the future, to dissect all the small sounds and songs that make up the ambiance of the movie. It’s something he really has come to enjoy and it’s actually increased the pleasure he takes from movies. Not to mention that Eric’s enamored reactions are entertainment enough. The movie is obviously a favorite, and Ryan relishes all the moments when Eric quotes the movie under his breath like an excited child.

A quiet point in the movie looms and Ryan stretches out from the way he was curled. He sits up straighter so that his back is no longer against the arm of the couch. When he moves, he sinks closer to the middle cushion than before. And Ryan is certain Eric leans closer as well. Though Eric doesn’t say anything, and Ryan doesn’t see him move, he definitely felt the couch move.

So Ryan scoots a little more as well, relaxing into the plush cushions and waits. Just as he suspected, moments later, Eric moves closer still; Ryan can feel the man’s arm brushing along his shoulders. Ryan wills himself not to tense—not to scare Eric off. Eric keeps moving until their sides are touching and Ryan feels dizzy from the warmth.

“Why did you leave?” Eric asks over the rising volume of the movie.

Ryan closes his eyes. He had figured this was coming. He’d explained himself at least a little to almost everyone before he left. If he hadn’t, they each would’ve hunted him down for an answer—Calleigh and Horatio and most of all Alexx would have been out for blood. So Ryan has explained himself as best he could and then vanished. He never said goodbye to Eric, never gave a reason, and never kept in contact.

Eric no longer watches the movie and instead stares at Ryan.

“I didn’t want to be around you anymore.” Ryan admits softly. It’s sure to sting but it’s the largest reason as to why he left. “Not being able to be a CSI anymore definitely made my decision easier, but it was mainly… everything with you.” Ryan, just as he had when conversing with Calleigh so many weeks prior, twiddles his thumbs and keeps his gaze trained on his lap. “Our relationship—it was always so… _weird_.

“You hated me for taking Speed’s place and I could understand that. I didn’t like being a—a rebound or whatever. But I tried my hardest to fit in and keep up with you guys and be a _good_ replacement if nothing else. And things kind of got better. Everyone warmed up to me, even _you_ eventually. I loved it, I loved my job and you guys and Miami. My entire life when it had been this god awful puzzle before was finally falling into place like I had always imagined. I was finally where I wanted to be, you know?”

Eric tenses beside him but doesn’t otherwise react.

“And then the whole fucking nail thing happened.” Ryan sighs. “But even then things weren’t so bad. Everyone felt bad and I didn’t really like the pity but at least no one hated me for making a stupid mistake. I should’ve had my gun drawn, I shouldn’t have gone in alone.” Ryan shrugs off the regret. “You were even nicer to me than before.”

Ryan stops to grin as brightly as he can at Eric; there’s not that slow burn of sadness or animosity, not anymore. Ryan needs Eric to know that. He keeps speaking. “And I know it was only because you felt guilty, that didn’t get past me.”

“That’s not—!”

“Wasn’t it, though? Because you felt bad that it was kinda-sorta your fault and you took it upon yourself to make things right. And even though I knew you weren’t doing it out of _love_ or anything _serious_ , I still reveled in it. Because I was in love with you.” Ryan leans back and rests his head on Eric’s arm that is across the back of the couch. He turns his head to Eric and stares at the faint details. “It was so stupid. I had it all worked out in my head, you know? I talked to Alexx about it constantly.

“I was finally gonna come clean and tell you how I felt—cuz I was thinking, maybe you felt the same. Alexx certainly thought so.” Ryan closes his eyes though he keeps his face toward Eric. “But then my vision started to go. And so did you.” Ryan laughs quietly to himself. He can’t help the bitter note, though his resentment has long since dissipated.

“And that was when I knew I needed to get away.” Ryan holds out his hands, as if to show he’s putting it all out there even though that’s already abundantly clear. He feels like he needs a stiff drink, he hasn’t spoken this much in ages.

All the same, he continues. “I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Blind and moving to an entirely new state? Alexx thought I was out of my mind. And I guess I kind of was. I didn’t know what else to do. I was losing my job, I was losing my friends, and I was losing the guy I’d convinced myself would be my boyfriend.”

Ryan shrugs. “That’s all. I needed a fresh start, clean break. Just like you couldn’t face me I couldn’t bear to face you before I left. So here we are.”

The movie has long since been abandoned though it plays on before them. It lights up their faces in the late evening glow. Eric’s stare has increased with its intensity and if Ryan could make out each small detail he knows he would likely feel overwhelmed. But he can’t see the creases running through Eric’s face and the way his lips are pulled into a regretful frown. Ryan can’t see the open, naked display of emotion running its course on Eric’s face.

“I’m sorry.” Eric murmurs. His whole body turns now and Ryan feels his fight or flight response kick into gear. A million of thoughts of how he was abandoned before; how he doesn’t even know if Eric is gay, or bisexual, or just in it for shits and giggles; how he’s already uprooted his life because of Eric once and Ryan doesn’t know if he can do that again—all of those thoughts buzz in his head like an angry wasp.

“Ryan, I am. I’m sorry.” Eric’s hand comes up to cup Ryan’s face. He tilts his head into the touch and wishes more than anything he could see Eric’s face.

Eric licks his lips, Ryan can hear Eric’s sharp, nervous inhale. Ryan bites his own lip. The mood lightens if only just, and Ryan finds himself feeling bold.

“Are you gonna kiss me, or what?”

Eric laughs and his breath is hot on Ryan’s face. They’re closer than ever now, more than they’ve ever been. They’re practically breathing in one another, sparks that dance along Ryan’s skin jump to Eric’s own. Their noses are brushing but hesitation still lingers between their lips. Ryan laughs as well, belated, and his heartbeat rings in his ears.

They’re interrupted by the sound of Ryan’s phone—ringing from where it sits on the coffee table beside the couch. It’s a generic chime, nothing especially loud or obnoxious, but it startles the two men apart. Ryan scrambles for his phone and is barely careful enough not to knock over his soda. Sliding his finger across the screen he nearly shouts. “What? Is everything okay?”

Erin sounds amused and Ryan immediately wonders how he found himself such a nice, sweet, cheeky young woman to babysit his son. “Everything is fine. You hadn’t called in a while and I wanted to make sure _you_ were okay.”

Ryan lets out a sigh of relief and waves off Eric who seems equally amped. Eric had leapt from the couch and looked ready to do anything Ryan asked. “Jesus, Erin.” Ryan wants to scold, but just doesn’t have it in him. His heart feels like it’s a jackhammer in his chest, first from his moment with Eric and then from his phone going off.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out. There is one thing, though, and I’m really sorry about this but my work called and asked me to switch shifts tomorrow, so I have to be up at like the—err, butt crack of dawn.”

Ryan scrubs a hand over his face; he’s still shaking from adrenaline and relief. “That’s okay, Erin, really it’s fine. I can come home, no worries. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

He hangs up and waits a moment before he flashes an extremely apologetic look at Eric. “I’m sorry. Erin’s shift changed and—!”

Eric waves off his apology. “It’s fine,” and he’s smiling, and Ryan feels light on his feet at the genuine tone. “Let me drive you home.” He holds out a hand to Ryan, who accepts it lets Eric pull him close. They stand, toe to toe and bodies nearly flush against one another, simply staring at each other. Ryan swallows nervously as his heart pounds even harder than before.

“We should probably go.” Ryan admits even though the heat from Eric is messing with his head in the most delightful way. “I’m sorry.”

Eric pulls back with a laugh but doesn’t let go of Ryan’s hand. “Stop apologizing. It’s fine, I understand completely.” Eric grabs the remote to turn off the TV and shortly after that they’re on the road again.

)

Erin opens the door and shushes them immediately. In a hushed tone she relays that Micah is asleep, and that if they wake him up she will kill them. Eric looks amused and faintly alarmed, where Ryan is just entertained. He thanks Erin, pays her a little extra for the trouble and last minute nature of the job, and locks the door behind her when she leaves.

“Presumptuous?” Eric taunts.

Ryan faces him. “Huh?” Eric gestures to the locked door. Ryan blushes. “Oh, shit, I just… It’s habit. I didn’t mean—you don’t have to—you can go home if you want to.” Ryan wants to melt into the floor, vanish into thin air, anything to get away from his embarrassed rambling.

Eric just laughs. “I’m just teasing you, Ryan.” The way his name rolls off Eric’s lips sends shivers down his spine. “I don’t mind spending the night if it’s okay with you. I’ll even take the couch.”

Ryan smirks right back. “That really won’t be necessary.” He holds out a hand to Eric who takes it and leads the way. “You love being in charge, huh?” He faintly catches the pink hue on Eric’s cheeks. “Not that I mind, just… interesting.” Eric pushes him against the bedroom door with care, and Ryan decides he definitely doesn’t mind Eric having control.

Eric grins down at him. They still haven’t kissed yet and it’s driving both of them a bit wild. The air between them is clearly charged with no signs of settling down. Ryan is actually glad Eric stayed, otherwise Ryan would’ve spent the whole night wondering what it’d be like to kiss Eric.

Now, though, he can just _know_ , no wondering necessary. Ryan loops his arms across Eric’s shoulders and blinks expectedly. Eric snorts but doesn’t waste more time.

Ryan is pressed fully against the bedroom door; Eric cradles Ryan’s head from hitting the wood with one hand and his other hand is clutched possessively at the small of Ryan’s back. Even though he knew it was coming, Ryan gasps as their lips meet. Eric crowds into his space and spares no expense in ravishing Ryan.

Ryan groans into the kiss and Eric matches his sound with an unexpectedly pitchy moan. Ryan would grin if he weren’t otherwise occupied. Eric’s hand, previously resting on Ryan’s back, slips down and cups the curve of his ass. Eric squeezes, pulls Ryan closer. Ryan arches his back and their cocks press between them.

“Fuck,” Ryan mutters as they pull from the kiss. “Holy— _fuck_.”

Eric laughs.

Ryan keens. “God, I’ve wanted this for so long.” It sounds desperate and needy but he can’t help it. The words spill from his lips and Eric swallows them with another kiss. “Bedroom, now, please.” Ryan lets a hand fall from Eric’s shoulders and grasps for the doorknob. He gets a grip on it and pushes Eric away so they can tumble into the bedroom without actually falling all over themselves.

“Where’s Micah?”

“I set up a nursery next door, it’s fine. I’m—I’m gonna turn on the baby monitor, but otherwise it’s fine.” Ryan grins as sexily as he can muster, which is harder to do when he’s talking about his baby in the same moment. Eric nods and as Ryan turns to the baby monitor on the dresser, Eric begins to undress. By the time Ryan turns back around, Eric is down to his boxers and relaxed on the bed.

Fine details or not, Ryan has never been more dizzy with desire. He can make out enough details of Eric’s body to know that the other is strong, muscular, and _hard_. Ryan swallows a groan and gets to work undressing himself. It’s as he’s wrangling his shirt off that hands land on his belt buckle. They’re Eric’s hands, of course, and they make quick work of the belt and Ryan’s pants.

“Jesus, Ryan.” Eric is breathless. Ryan sinks to the edge of the bed and allows himself to be hauled into Eric’s lap. He closes his eyes and relishes the feeling of Eric’s hands roaming over his body. “I can’t believe—this, _this_ , I’ve missed _you_.” Eric’s fingertips tease along the band of Ryan’s boxers. “I never thought I’d see you again,” he admits.

Then, softer, lips against the skin of Ryan’s neck, Eric murmurs, “I never thought I’d get this chance.”

Ryan listens because he can’t find the words to respond. He loops his arms again across Eric’s shoulders and lets the man whisper heated confessions in his ear. Ryan ruts against Eric and the motion is returned. Their bodies move together, fluidly, but Eric’s words never cease except to moan.

“I’m such an idiot that it took you leaving to realize how much I needed you around.” Eric’s hands slip again to Ryan’s ass, but this time they’re in his boxers and it’s skin on skin. Ryan’s own gasps hitch at the touch and his hips jerk back into Eric’s hands. “You were gone for months before I realized that I was upset because I _loved_ you and not because of guilt or anger or, or whatever else.”

Eric’s voice is raspy and harsh but the kisses he presses into Ryan’s neck and shoulders are soft. The way Eric runs his hands reverently across Ryan’s ass is careful. If it wasn’t for the way their cocks were hard, leaking, and thrusting against one another, the scene would seem almost innocent, nearly delicate.

Ryan cups Eric’s cheek and presses their foreheads together. “I’m here. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Eric nods in response to Ryan’s words, and kisses him soundly. Ryan drops a hand to tweak at Eric’s nipples; Eric startles at the touch and pushes his chest towards Ryan.

Ryan responds with, “I’m close.” It doesn’t sneak up on him like in high school, or like other one night stands; his orgasm builds steadily and strong and shivers erupt along his spine.

“Me too,” and Eric is still breathless, sending another jolt of arousal through Ryan’s veins.

It’s not how Ryan really expected it to be—and he’s been thinking about this moment for longer than he’d care to admit. It’s not as frenzied or hungry as he’d expected; the first moments were crazed but they quickly softened. Eric may like control but he isn’t a freak about it, he isn’t overwhelming or animalistic. Though Ryan hopes that side emerges with time, he basks in the feeling of something so carefully intense.

Ryan comes when Eric slides a finger between his cheeks and presses against his hole. It sets him off, his hips stuttering in their motion and torn between the friction of Eric’s cock or his finger. Ryan moans each time a spurt of come spills from his dick. He knows his boxers will be stained but he’s too elated to care.

Eric comes while Ryan drifts down from his high. Ryan wishes he could see the way Eric’s come spills into his boxers, the way Eric’s Adams apple bobs as he chokes on his moans. Ryan rides it out with Eric until the moment passes. The sweat on their skin cools and the come in their boxers turns tacky. They make no attempt to move or separate.

Ryan presses his face against Eric’s without a word. It’s a gesture he’s always enjoyed. The intimacy of breathing in another person without kissing them or tasting them or teasing them drives Ryan wild in a whole different way. Eric presses back and his eyelashes flutter against Ryan’s cheek. Ryan grins. In the back of his mind he thinks it’s a miracle that Micah hasn’t made a ruckus. He supposes the kid is well and truly tuckered out and Ryan appreciates Erin all the more.

“You ready to sleep?” Eric asks in a voice that clearly shows how exhausted he is.

Ryan shakes his head. “I’m not going to sleep with come drying in my boxers.” He retorts. He scoots from Eric’s lap and immediately misses the warmth of Eric’s hands on his ass. “Are _you_ gonna sleep with _that_?” He asks, incredulous.

Eric groans and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “Fine, whatever.” His tone is husky but not angry. He follows Ryan dutifully to the bathroom. The air is thick between them yet again but not in an awkward way. It’s thick in a way that screams of all the things they’d love to do to one another given time and opportunity. They both keep sneaking glances at each other, directly and in the mirror, as they clean themselves up and discard their boxers in the hamper.

Eric slips into bed first and Ryan follows into his open arms. “Do you work tomorrow?” Ryan asks as they settle in.

“I’m on call, yeah, but if H doesn’t get a hold of me I’m in the clear.”

Ryan knows his grin isn’t private or hidden because of the way he’s pressed so close to Eric, his lips are against skin. “Good.” He can’t help himself.

Eric’s arms tighten around him for a moment. Ryan knows, realistically, that a case probably _will_ come up and Eric won’t be there when Ryan gets up. And sure, Ryan will be disappointed but he’ll understand. He worked the job once, and he knows the hours are hell. He decides to relish this moment while he has it.

))

Ryan is still sitting outside the preschool, his heart pounding. He knows that some of the staff is shooting him worried looks but it doesn’t spur him into action. He’s excited for Micah to go to class, to learn and socialize. He’s also excited to have more time to himself. But he’s not excited at the same time. He’s worried and anxious and his stomach is tied up in knots over the thought of walking away and leaving Micah.

Preschool will be over within just a few hours but Ryan is still shaking. He lets his head drop forward and breathes slowly and deeply. He tries to calm his racing heart and can finally relax after some careful, calculated breaths. He looks up to the blurry parking lot and sighs. His hand moves to his pocket and before he realizes, his phone is dialing out against his ear.

“Ryan?” Eric’s voice is fond though there’s an underlying note of concern.

The care in the tone sets Ryan at ease and brings him closer to reality and pushes away the panic. “Hey. Just dropped Micah off at the school.” Ryan fiddles with a few rocks near him. “Kinda freaking out, not gonna lie.” To keep his free hand occupied, Ryan dusts off the car seat unnecessarily.

Eric laughs into Ryan’s ear. “You need a ride?”

“Is that okay? I don’t want to get you in trouble. If you’ve got a case I can call a cab. I mostly just needed to talk to someone.”

“I can come get you as long as you don’t mind tagging along to visit a suspect. You’ll have to stay in the car but it shouldn’t take long.” Eric offers.

Ryan smiles down at his knees, beneath them where his cane lays. “Okay,” he gives Eric the name of the preschool, and hangs up once their plans are made. He tucks his phone away again and waits.

)

In the car, they lapse into silence. Eric’s brow is drawn together in concern and he’s mouthing words without speaking. Ryan recognizes it as his ‘thinking’ face, his ‘I’m about to interrogate someone’ face. Ryan smiles fondly as he lets the passenger seat recline backwards a bit. It feels weird to be in the Hummer again. Any time Eric has driven him, it’s always been in his personal car. Now it feels almost like being a CSI again and Ryan’s whole body aches.

Ryan’s head rolls and looks out the window. The speed of the car combined with his blindness makes the outside nothing but a stream of dull colors. It’s still soothing in an odd way. Ryan finds himself hypnotized by the scenery and almost doesn’t realize they’ve stopped.

“I’ll be right back, Ryan.”

“Be careful.” The words tumble from his mouth and are followed fast by a rich blush. Eric grins at him and leans across the center console to kiss Ryan. “I’ll be here,” Ryan assures.

“Yeah you better!” Eric teases before shutting the door.

Ryan settles in. Though Eric had promised a swift interrogation, Ryan knows the job better than that. He has no expectations of speed, so long as he’s able to pick Micah up on time. As the time stretches Ryan wishes he had brought a book, cursing his lack of foresight yet again. More than anything he wishes he had some paperwork he had picked up, something promising, something that had his heart beating faster than ever.

The door to the hummer snaps open and Ryan startles, his right hand immediately reaching for a service weapon he no longer carries.

“Ryan, Ryan, it’s just me.” Eric soothes. “Everything is fine.” Eric reaches out again and this time cups Ryan’s cheek. “Were you—were you reaching for your weapon?”

Ryan flushes a worse pink. “I, I guess it’s a force of habit. Haven’t had a scare like that in ages, so…”

“It’s cool, I can understand that. I’m glad you’re still, I dunno… Keen.”

It’s Ryan’s turn to laugh now. “Keen? Okay, sure, we’ll go with that.”

Eric starts the car and pulls away from the curb carefully.

“How did it go?” Ryan asks, feigning casual interest. Eric shoots him a knowing look. “What! I used to be a CSI, it’s—oh fuck I don’t know.” Ryan admits defeat with his hands raised in surrender.

Instead of retorting, Eric falls silent. Again, his face pulls into a concentrated knot, and Ryan is fascinated. He can only see the barest movements but they are movements he long ago memorized. Eric is less stressed this time, though, and more contemplative, it seems.

At the same time they pass over a speed bump, Eric finally speaks up. “Ryan,” it catches the brunette’s attention and he looks at Eric. “Have you ever considered being a consultant?” Eric shifts in the seat and his knuckles flush from the force of his grip on the steering wheel. “Like, for CSIs and whatever. You said it yourself: you did the job, you know how it works.”

Ryan’s eyes widen. He’d never considered it. He’d always done simple jobs, easy freelance work that kept his bank account healthy but didn’t take a toll on him with his disability. “You really think I could do that?”

Eric scoffs. “Of course I do.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and it only startles Ryan more. “It’d be perfect. You could come back to the lab, it wouldn’t be hard on you, or Micah.”

Eric shrugs as his voice falters: he’s nervous, now. “I just think it’d work really well. We could talk to H, work out something like a private deal, still official but, y’know, you’d be the only one. You’re the only one that matters.”

Ryan opens his mouth but nothing comes out so he closes it with a sharp snap.

“Food for thought.” Eric finishes casually.

They pull into the MDPD parking lot and sit for a moment after the car is off. Ryan takes a deep breath. “I might be getting corrective surgery.” He mumbles. It’s only fair, he’s only dropping this bomb the same way Eric laid out his idea.

Eric faces Ryan slowly. “Corrective surgery?”

Ryan nods. “Laser eye surgery. It’ll, uh, maybe help some of my sight in my left eye come back. My right eye is basically done for and I’ve accepted that but a few of the doctors I’ve talked to seem to think my left eye is salvageable.” Ryan feels giddy. He hasn’t told anyone about the prospective surgery, not his parents or Alexx or anyone. The most he’s done is mutter about it to Micah as though the kid is truly listening. It feels elating to get it off his chest, finally, and share his excitement.

But Eric isn’t saying anything and Ryan’s heart begins to drop to his stomach. The moments continue to pass and Ryan feels light-headed with fear. He can’t think of anything else to say to explain himself. Why should he have to explain himself, anyway? It should be perfectly obvious to anyone who knows Ryan why he would want to do this.

Eric tenses and then relaxes but before he can speak Ryan’s phone rings. They both jump at the sound and Ryan fumbles for his phone. The call— _Cherry Blossom Learning Center_ —only serves to worsen Ryan’s anxiety.

He slides across the bar he knows is there; it takes every ounce of restraint to keep his voice level. “Hello?” He answers, cautious.

“Mr. Wolfe?”

“Speaking.”

“Oh, good!” The woman’s voice is cheery and it soothes Ryan a bit. “It says here in Micah’s file that you’re a new family to our center, and we always call the first couple times school finishes up so the parents know to come get their kids.” She laughs. “It sounds silly, but we get so many business types that would definitely forget when class is over that we find it to be a necessary precaution.”

“I understand, ah, thanks for calling. I’ll be over shortly.” Ryan hangs up after a polite goodbye. “Micah’s preschool is done for the day. Can you take me back?” He asks almost hesitant.

Eric simply nods and turns the car back on. “Of course,” he says it again, still as though his answer will always be the most obvious thing in the world. They say nothing on the drive over, and Eric waits in the car while Ryan collects Micah. Eric helps get the car seat set up and silence resumes on the drive back to Ryan’s.

Ryan gets out of the car with ease but Eric again helps with the car seat. Hummer still running Eric walks Ryan to the door and sets the seat just inside Ryan’s apartment after the door is open. With Micah on his hip, Ryan faces Eric. They stare at each other before Eric breaks the far too long silence.

“We should talk, tomorrow.” Eric states. “Can Erin watch Micah? Maybe at her place or…?”

Ryan tilts his head. “I’ll… see what I can do?”

Eric just nods rather than elaborating. He leans forward and kisses Ryan solidly on the mouth, nothing heated but definitely intense. Ryan feels short of breath when the kiss ends, and still feels that way watching Eric pull out of the lot.

))

Ryan is pacing around his living room—going in loops between the island in his kitchen, his small dining room table, and the couch—when the door opens. He knows it’s Eric because the man had called as he parked downstairs. Erin had come by and taken Micah not too long ago and Ryan was only more nervous without his son’s presence.

Eric immediately catches Ryan by the arm to halt his pacing. “We need to talk.”

Ryan’s blood runs cold but he plays it cool. “Okay.” He jerks his head to the couch. “Can we sit?” His knees are quaking and standing in the middle of the room with Eric feels like floating out in a sea when his anxiety is so high. Eric doesn’t say anything but Ryan lets himself be tugged along. He sits down when the backs of his knees hit the couch and Eric sits beside him. He sits closer than Ryan anticipated, and it causes a swirling mix of fear and happiness in his gut.

“I’m sorry about yesterday.” Eric starts. “I was just… shocked. In a good way. A really, really good way.” He hurries to clarify. “You getting your sight back? That would be amazing. It’d be the best since to happen since you came back to Miami.” Eric is grinning now though his breathless tone gives away his own fears. “I’m sorry I clammed up. My mind went into overdrive and I needed some time to think.”

Ryan nods. “Sure, I understand.”

“Plus, you know…” Eric’s tone is open ended and Ryan senses a fond sort of trouble. “Having even a little better vision would really come in handy when you’re a CSI consultant.” Eric keeps speaking, quick, before Ryan can interrupt. “I already talked to H about it, and he’s on board. He’s ready to talk to whoever he needs to, to make it happen.”

Ryan grins.

“You don’t have to agree to it right away, but I want you to know that the option is 100% available to you, if you want it.” Eric moves closer again and pulls Ryan into a hug. “Whatever you decide, though, I’ll support you.”

Ryan grins again Eric’s shoulder. “Thank you.” Ryan sighs tiredly and feels his eyes wanting to droop shut. “Why did you want Erin to take Micah if this is what you wanted to talk about?”

“I—honestly, I didn’t know how this conversation was going to go. I kind of figured we’d end up fighting and I didn’t want Micah to be around for that.” They pull back from the hug and Eric seems sheepish. “Plus, if this did go well—which it has—I was maybe thinking we could put some alone time to good use.” Eric mumbles.

Ryan immediately bursts into laughter, so loud and sudden that he finds himself falling away from Eric on the couch. He laughs so hard that tears prick at his eyes and he’s gasping for air by the time the mirth subsides. He gazes at Eric’s frame with wet eyes and a toothy smile. “You’re so predictable, Delko.”

Eric rolls his eyes and crawls across Ryan’s body; they rest, bodies pressed flush together, horizontal on the couch. “I didn’t mean _sex_.” At Ryan’s unimpressed look Eric continues. “Okay, not _just_ sex. We don’t get the place to ourselves all the much; it’d be nice to sleep—and _just_ sleep—without Micah bothering us.”

Ryan can’t help but nod in agreement. Micah can be a handful, and there’s been more than one night that Ryan has felt bad calling off their plans to favor his moody son. He knows Eric never really minds because Eric understands the responsibilities Micah entails; that said, Ryan never likes stopping in the middle of mind-blowing sex to go coddle his son to sleep again.

Eric’s lips on the side of his face bring Ryan back to their moment. “Why don’t you tell me more about this surgery?” Eric asks softly between kisses. There’s nothing sexual about their movements even when they’re pressed so close together. It’s all intimate, sensual, but light hearted and without the need to go further. Ryan nods.

“So, I never really got a chance to explain _why_ I was going blind.” Ryan shoots his boyfriend a rueful look and Eric looks appropriately ashamed. “The doctors thought removing the nail and a little surgery would be fine. It wouldn’t be easy, but the doctors were confident there wouldn’t be lasting damage beyond headaches. The nail didn’t go _in_ my eye, barely missed it, so they thought at most there would be headaches and maybe some sinus issues.”

Eric nods for Ryan to continue.

“But they were wrong, they didn’t see what was happening until it was too late. And my… reluctance to go to the doctor didn’t help matters.” Ryan closes his eyes as the memories come flooding back to him. Five years later they’re still painful, still unpleasant, and still hard to handle. Ryan feels so stupid any time these memories resurface: if he hadn’t been so stubborn they maybe could’ve saved some of his vision back then.

“Ryan?” Eric’s voice is soft.

“Sorry.”

Eric just kisses him soundly on the mouth, as encouragement. Ryan nods in appreciation and continues.

“Uh, well, it turned out that there was more scar tissue than they initially thought, and it grew. I went back to work so quickly and, I don’t know, I just exacerbated the problem and the scar tissue interfered with my right cornea. Nerves were damaged and the shape of my cornea was permanently altered.

“That’s when I finally went to the doctor but by then it was too far gone. The scar tissue had even made it to the left side of my face and did just enough damage to do...” He gestures to his face and the blank stare with a grimace. “There’s nothing they can do for my right eye, it’s basically dead now.” That was true to near anyone Ryan encountered regardless of if they knew him or not; his right eye was faded over and dull, whereas his left eye was still vibrant more often than not.

“So, the surgery?”

“It’s a specific kind of LASEK surgery. The kind people get so they don’t need glasses or contacts? Like that, but even more,” Ryan searches for the word with a hum, “intense, I guess. They’re going to try and reshape my left cornea and it should restore my vision. I might need glasses to get complete clarity but it’ll help either way. Right now, my eye is too damaged for glasses unless I want the kind that magnify your eyes and make you look like a total dork.”

“But you _are_ a total dork.” Eric points out.

Ryan smacks him in the shoulder with a mocking pout. “Whatever, jerk.” They grin, though, lips barely brushing together. “ _Anyways_ , I can get somewhat normal glasses after the surgery.” Ryan holds up his hands as if to say _there you have it_ with a shrug. He has a shining grin on his face, though; he’s so excited for the surgery he almost can’t contain himself. Just as it had the day before, to give away his secret finally, it feels so good to gush about the prospect.

))

“Hey, kiddo!” Eric scoops Micah from Ryan’s arms as he steps off the elevator. Ryan appreciates the weight off his arm as he always does—especially as Micah seems to get bigger each day—and shifts the baby bag on his shoulder. He’s left the car seat at MDPD’s front desk, rather than carrying it all the way to the lab yet again. Micah bubbles with laughter and his arms wave around eagerly in response to Eric.

“Ah, Mr. Wolfe. Back again?” Horatio comes around the corner and Ryan is yet again convinced of the man’s sixth sense. Micah babbles something at Horatio as well and the red headed man grins back at the toddler. “What brings you in this time?”

Ryan shifts uneasily, though he knows Eric is shooting him an encouraging look. “I wanted to talk to you about the job offer? Being a consultant?”

Horatio nods knowingly.

“There’s some other stuff we should probably talk about, too, so I thought it’d be easier for me to stop by.” Ryan wills himself not to feel nervous—H is the best boss he’s ever had, really. Always treated him right and well and good. And Eric already said he spoke to Horatio about the job; Ryan knows he has no real reason to be nervous.

“And I’m sure you had no ulterior motive in doing so,” Horatio taunts with a glance at Eric. “That’s fine, follow me. You should take Micah back for now, though. Eric needs to assist Walter in Trace.” Horatio takes quick strides to his office and leaves the two men alone. The implication is clear: say your goodbyes, but make it quick.

Ryan grins impishly at Eric and leans forward to kiss him. “Sorry I didn’t call.” Micah is still noisy and happy as he moves to Ryan’s arms. “I’ll, uh, find you when I’m done with H?”

Eric nods before kissing the top of Micah’s head and then kissing Ryan again. “Maybe you can finally meet Walter.”

Ryan nods and they each head separate directions down the halls.

)

Ryan sits across from Horatio, a desk between them. Micah’s energy is still abundant but he sits rather still in his father’s lap. Horatio grins at the boy, unable to take his eyes off the kid. His fondness for kids is only stronger for Micah given that he’s Ryan’s son.

“H?” After a stretch of nothing but Micah’s soft babbling, Ryan speaks up.

“I would love for you to be a consultant for the department, Ryan.” It’s a rare day that Horatio uses Ryan’s first name, and it shifts the tension in the room. “However, some ground rules would have to be laid out. I know of yours and Eric’s relationship and while I, nor anyone else, have any issues with it, it _would_ be an issue if you two were disrupting the work environment.”

Ryan nods so fast he feels a bit dizzy after. “I completely understand, H. We would be totally appropriate, I’d never want to do anything to embarrass the lab.”

“I know, Mr. Wolfe. I appreciate your cooperation.” Horatio grins and leans onto his desk. He clasps his hands in front of him and his elbows dig into the table. “Now as for hours, they would be fairly flexible. I have discussed the finer details of the position with various captains in the department and HR drew up an employment contract.”

Horatio moves swiftly and places the papers in Ryan’s open hand. He falls silent as Ryan reads over the braille. When Ryan looks up, Horatio continues.

“It would be appreciated if you could be around at least most of the week, normal hours such as nine to five, so that during a case anyone can reach you. My personal team would have your cell in case of on-the-field assessments and such. Given Micah, and of course your vision, accommodations will always be made as necessary.”

Ryan stares down at the paper and his finger works quickly to skim again over the documents. He reads and rereads various sections to ensure he understands everything just fine.

 Ryan’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, gasping for words. Disbelief and excitement are coursing through his system. Micah shifts, antsy, picking up on his father’s mood. Ryan sets the papers on the desks and holds Micah a bit tighter to soothe him. “This is.. I can’t believe…” Ryan shakes his head and it pulls a laugh from Horatio.

“You know you are always welcome here, Ryan. I told you that when you left and it’s always been true. You are part of my team, and I will do anything for my team.” Horatio sits back in his chair again. “Was there something you wished to discuss with me?”

“Oh, yeah.” Ryan had almost forgotten in the flurry of paperwork. “I’m looking into getting surgery for my eye. It’ll hopefully restore enough vision in my left eye that, with glasses, I’ll be able to actually _see_.”

Ryan reaches up to his left eye instinctively. It’s a habit he’s picked up since the possibility of surgery had become a reality. “The surgery is coming up in a few months so, if I start as a consultant now I’ll need to take the time off to heal in a few months. I could still help out by phone but coming in might be a bit much. It’s a kind of experimental surgery, so the doctors want me to take as many precautions as possible.”

Horatio nods. “I understand. Whenever you’d like, sign the papers and I’ll deliver them to HR.” Ryan holds out his hand expectantly and Horatio passes him a pen with nothing more than a silent smirk. Ryan finds the line, and signs before printing his name; the pen glides slowly over the paper as Ryan is more careful than normal.

)

That night, when Micah is asleep in his room just a wall away, and when Eric sleeping behind Ryan on the bed snoring ever so slightly, and with his first pre-procedure appointment only hours away, Ryan realizes the future he’s always wanted is finally at his fingertips.


End file.
